


Safety

by yeaka



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:40:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22192681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Jerry makes it past the border.
Relationships: Jerry(s) & Jerry(s) (Detroit: Become Human)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 19





	Safety

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Canada’s cold. Jerry already knows that, though there wasn’t much time to do research—he just had to _get out_ as fast he could. He doesn’t really feel _cold_ the way humans do, but he still knows what it’s like to be covered in frost and have his hair and clothes freeze into rigid icicles. He knows the difficulty of trudging through knee-high snow and trying to see through white flecks caught in the wind. He’s seen men he loved freeze over, their blue blood an icy chunk unable to flow, and he’s watched the light fade from their eyes. He doesn’t want that to happen to him. He’s one of the few with his skin still intact: a nice, rich pink pigment instead of a pallid blue. He doesn’t want to lose the colour of his freckles. 

They’ll just have to find some place to start over. Some shelter. He won’t need _food_ or power, not so much money, but he’ll get a job anyway—at a new theme park or maybe just a grocery store: anywhere he can serve and see children. He misses that. He misses being part of a team and providing for a community. 

Of course, a new work force won’t be the same as his old team. That’s why Jerry hasn’t gone far past the border yet. He stands on the frozen pavement, hands in his pockets, simulating puffs of breath to blend in. A toque protects his hair from the frost. His jacket doesn’t feel as _right_ as the uniform underneath, but he has to be careful.

Being careful would mean running. But Jerry’s not ready to go yet. He still has hope.

The hope ticks away with every passing minute, but he clutches to it anyway. He can’t be the only one who got lucky. There were so many of them. He doesn’t dare reach out with his thoughts, because he’s terrified of emptiness where there used to be a symphony.

Something knocks into him from behind. Jerry stumbles forward and almost apologizes on sheer instinct: if a guest ever barrels into him, it’s his own fault. He’s the ‘plastic employee.’ But he recognizes the arms that wrap around his waist and the chin that hooks over his shoulder. The other Jerry whispers, “I’m so glad you made it.”

Jerry’s chest swells. He squirms around in the other Jerry’s arms and returns the tight embrace, hugging Jerry close. They crush up against one another like they used to do when the loneliness became too much. Jerry rubs his back, and water prickles at the corner of his eyes. He’s never understood why he has that function. 

He dares to ask, “Are more coming?”

“I don’t know,” the other Jerry admits. He murmurs between them: _But I want to wait, just in case._

_I know; I do too._

They slowly disentangle. They look at one another, like two human twins so glad to be reunited. But their family’s so much bigger than that. 

They wait together, fingers intertwined, just that little bit less cold.


End file.
